Souled Torture - Part One (Chapters 1 thru 7)
by Zer0 Signal
Summary: Magic creates inner turmoil by unlocking feelings. This ain't your daddy's shipper fic (reviews appreciated)


TITLE : Souled Torture AUTHOR : Zer0 Signal EMAIL : sykotik22@hotmail.com RATING : PG (nothing extraordinary...it's just not a kiddie tale) CONTENT : A love triangle (wanna know who? read it), far FAR less depressing than my last offering, "Guilt". Man was I in a mood when I wrote that one. Certain shippers will like this. TIME FRAME : Immediately after "Something Blue" in Season 4. Disregard all future episodes' events (think of this as an alternate timeline..oh wait, that's what you do with all fanfic) DISCLAIMER : All characters are property of Joss, Mutant Enemy, their friends and loved ones, FOX, their lawyers, probably a janitor or two...pretty much a whole bunch of people, none of whom are me. I'm in no mood to have my legal ass handed to me. The story is mine though...alllll mine. Wanna post it somewhere? Ask me, I'll say yes. DEDICATION : To my sister Michele who finally got me into the best show on TV today, then who crash-coursed me through the first season and a half thanks to her tapes of every episode ever. 

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CHAPTER ONE 

The usual ominous silence that blanketed the Sunnydale graveyard at night was disturbed by an odd sound. Every few seconds, a drop of water would hit the grass, or the paved path surrounding it. A second sound could soon be heard, identifying them both. Buffy Summers strode through the cemetary briskly, shuddering every so often as she repeatedly spat on the ground. The events of the last 24 hours left a bad taste in her mouth, literally as well as figuratively. She tried desperately to keep her mind on her duty, almost praying for a newly-risen vampire to test her mettle. Beneath the revulsion, her mind swam with the very concept of what she felt last night. She was in love with Spike. Spitting once more, she remembered the feeling in her heart every time they kissed, every time he touched her, and how she worried about him during the battle with the demons. 

She wouldn't readily admit it to anyone, not even herself, but her disgust was a mask for her sadness. Angel was the last man...the only man to make her feel that way, and she hated Spike for bringing those feelings back, albeit misdirected. She hated Willow, her best friend in the world, for casting the spell that so easily toyed with her emotions. Emotions she guarded with her very life whenever Angel would break her heart, even unintentionally. Her latest visit to Los Angeles did nothing but open old wounds. Taking a deep breath, she halted suddenly and sat against a nearby tombstone. It wasn't Will's fault, she thought to herself, or even Spike's. Magic can overwhelm the most stoic of souls, and the Slayer was certainly no exception. 

As her mind raced, one particular thought washed a wave of anxiety over her, followed by a slight curiosity. The spell had full hold over both her and Spike, of that there was no doubt. Staring into the starry sky, one thought screamed volumes over all others. 

Why did the feelings come so easily? Why did they seem so right? She quickly snapped out of her contemplative trance and resumed her patrolling. 

"Why did you leave me..." she whispered into the cold air, as if Angel were right beside her and could hear her sorrowful plea. 

CHAPTER TWO 

"Why did she leave me.." breathed a morose voice, knowing no one could her his lamentations. Decades of love and devotion, and before he knew it, it was all gone. Had his wrists not been manacled, Spike would bury his head in his hands and try to sleep through another lonely night. Instead, he scanned his detestable surroundings for the upteenth time. Giles' guest room was nothing lavishly decorated, but it was comfortable for one who cared about such trivial things as comfort. William the Bloody had no concern for such things, thought Spike with mental bravado. 

"Bloody Hell," he muttered. "Here sits the scourge of Eastern Europe, tied to a bed in the house of a Watcher too weak-hearted to do me in, surrounding by a bunch of adolescent dweebs who spend their lives kowtowing to a Slayer who'd do just fine without 'em." He stopped and analyzed his last statement. It's not exactly true, he thought. The redhead's got power, no denying that. He thought of what Willow would be like as an ally, if he turned her that is. Too good-hearted for his taste. Cute too. Spike cut off that last thought, and he growled ominously, chastising himself for considering that infernal witch even remotely attractive. Disgusted with his own thought process, he slumped back against the headboard. 

"This must be that atonement nonsense Angel used to spout off about," he continued, sneering. His soliloquy was cut short as he thought back to the night before. Willow's wiccan bumblings had him liplocked with his mortal enemy for a good few hours. Had he a functioning digestive system, he thought, he'd surely be choking on his own bile. He squirmed uncomfortably on his bed, trying to shift his thoughts back to his Drucilla. Compared with the recent events of his life...losing the Gem of Amarra, the implant, and the Buffy debacle....thoughts of his lost love almost cheered him up. He couldn't believe a spell could manufacture feelings that strong for anyone, especially between a Slayer and a vampire. Is Angel as whipped as I was by that bitch, only all the time? He snickered at that last thought, but there was no denying how enchanted he was only a few hours ago. He felt a love as strong as he felt for Dru at one point, maybe even stronger. 

This last thought again unsettled him, and he quickly slipped into vamp mode, trying in vain to break the chains that held him in this intolerable prison. 

"Big Bad has an image to uphold," he said resignedly, before slumping back onto the bed yet again. He cursed himself for feeling the way he felt. For feeling at all. Fate certainly enjoyed playing him a cruel hand. 

CHAPTER THREE 

"I hate bleedin' Prague, luv" said Spike as he stood against the wall, impatiently awaiting the sunset. "No action in this town. It's dead." 

"No it isn't darling," replied Drucilla, his paramour for life, "but we can make it dead, if you'd like. Would that make my sweet Spike happy?" 

Spike smiled and walked towards her, "Yes pet, but that's a lot of work to put on a vampire's head. I've only got two fangs." His face morphed into it's demonic form with that last statement, as he moved in close to Drucilla, nibbling the nape of her neck. 

"And what lovely fangs my Spikey has," she chimed in her hauntingly childlike voice, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she spoke. Suddenly she pushed him away. "But save those for some of those poor wretches out there. Make mommy happy. Bring me something." 

"Anything," said Spike loyally, kissing her hand, "anything you desire." 

Drucilla's warped mind actually dwelled on Spike's offer for a few seconds, the way one might decide what to order on a menu at a restaurant. "Bring meeeee... a man...one who is about to be wed. Bring me his head. No one in this wicked place should have a love stronger than what we share." A wicked glint reflected in her eye as she continued. "Kill them Spikey...kill them all. Make your princess happy." 

"Absolutely, my pet. A bride-to-be will drown in her own tears before this night is over," swore the blond vampire, excited and a little frightened by Drucilla's sociopathic request. This was her true nature, the thing that made him fall so hard for her, even before she sired him. Drucilla squealed in delight, snaked her tongue up and down the side of his face and around his ear, before returning to her dolls in the bedroom. Spike grinned, almost sheepishly, as he turned to the window. Darkness had fallen, and he was free to continue his reign of terror. As he had done many nights before, he spent a few minutes continuing to gaze out the window, almost hesistant to go out on his nightly hunt. He admonished himself silently for not giving in immediately to his bloodlust, his reluctance baffling him right down to his demonic core. Shaking his head violently, he reverted to his human form, grabbed his leather duster, and left the house to do his demonic duty. He'd take another life tonight. For Dru. 

CHAPTER FOUR 

"Y'know Wil, between the guilty conscience and the broken heart, you're headed for an early grave," said Xander to his fiery-haired companion, "and in this town, early graves are pathetically trendy." Willow managed a quick, polite grin, but not even Xander's dark, up-front humor could cheer her up. Xander frowned, and continued to tidy up his basement room in anticipation of another "date" with Anya, which usually meant a few hours in the basement with a snack break here or there. 

After a long silence, Willow spoke up. "I know no one blames me for the spell, and no permanent harm was done, but I take my magic very seriously and the train wreck I caused this time around almost got me drafted into the Demon Legion." 

"Did you even ask what kind of benefits they offered?" 

"Xander.." 

"I'm sorry Wil. I guess my rapier-sharp wit's more of a blunt clubbing weapon today, but I hate seeing you like this. I know it hurts too much to even crack a smile, but I have to try." 

Rising off the bed, she put her head on Xander's shoulder. "And you know I appreciate it. But all the jokes in the world won't bring Oz back, and now with his stuff gone...it's almost like he's hinting at some sort of terrible closure concerning his life with us...with me.." she trailed off as tears began to well up in her already red, swollen eyes. 

"Wil...the only thing you and I are sure about, is that he loves you very much. If he's meant to return, he will, and you'll be all the stronger for it," Xander tried his best to be prophetic and supportive at once. He gave her a long embrace as she tried to fight off another sobbing spree. 

Collecting herself, she spoke with her face above his shoulder. "He made me feel so special. Not like a sister or a gal-pal..." she hesistated, hoping Xander wouldn't take that last statement personally. "He made me feel sexy. And wanted. No one's ever done that, except for.." She felt the name coming out and couldn't stop it in time. "...Spike" 

It took about a second and a half for the word to register in Xander's brain. He backed out of Willow's arms enough to look her right in the eye. "D..did you just say Spike?" 

Willow nodded, then turned away and walked back to the bed, plopping down dejectedly. "Remember the fight you had with Harmony that night?" she asked. Xander blushed slightly, remembering the lack of ferocity of that little altercation. He nodded solemnly, wondering where this story was going. 

"Spike came into our dorm room to attack Buffy, but instead found me. He would have drained me if it wasn't for that implant." Xander said a quick prayer in his head for that stroke of luck, as Willow continued. 

"He was almost in shock. I guess I was in shock too, because I actually tried to comfort him. I told him I bet he couldn't bite me because I wasn't Buffy, but he insisted I was very biteable. Maybe it was just babbling, or small talk, but to hear someone like Spike talk about how attractive I was...it cheered me up a little, even through all the panic and fear." Xander felt like debunking Spike's claims, figuring them for lies, but he held back when he saw Willow's eyes light up as she spoke about that night. 

"If only for a few minutes," she continued, "Spike just seemed like a scared little boy, who failed at what he does best and needed someone to talk to." 

"Well we all know Vamps are masters of that whole brooding thing when they want to be," answered Xander tersely, "but to even compare a psycho like Spike to Angel. It's apples and Buicks Wil...Spike doesn't feel sorrow or remorse..." 

Willow cut him off, "But he feels love! Look at how Dru almost destroyed him last year. The poor thing cried on my shoulder for what seemed like an eternity." 

"Between death threats you mean? Yeah, sorry I wasnt awake for that one." 

Willow took a deep breath. She didn't need a fight with her best friend to add to her growing list of woes. "Look, all I'm saying is this. Maybe it's because I'm hurt, or because he was scared, or vice versa...but Spike made me feel wanted. Genuinely wanted. It's the best I've felt since Oz left...." and with that she began to cry again. Xander nearly tripped over himself trying to rush over and hold her again. "I'm sorry Willow. I'm glad someone gave you a pick-me-up this past few weeks, even if it was Spike." Xander sighed deeply, holding a shuddering Willow until her crying fit ceased. It might have been his inner jealousy talking, but something told him Spike was manipulating her. He's not Angel, he has no soul. Case closed. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

"He's funny looking Spikey," whined Drucilla. "His nose is big and his mouth hangs down funny." 

"That's because I broke his jaw before I drained him, luv." replied Spike with a wicked grin. "I like to throw in a little variety. The old drain/decapitate routine gets a bit played out." 

"That's my Spikey, always the artist." She ran her nails across his blond scalp, drawing just enough blood for him to feel the warmth oozing atop his skull. He had brought his trophy in only minutes before sunrise. Now, hours later, the town felt different to him. Something was abuzz among the townspeople, and his inate feelings of dread made him a little uneasy about he and Drucilla going out that night to feed. If need be, he'd abandon Drucilla to escape danger. Self-preservation is a vampire's only loyalty, he thought to himself. He questioned that thought in his head as Dru began to speak again. 

"I'm terribly bored Spike. I want to go out and play. The sun just went down." 

Something inside him cursed himself as he spoke. "Go ahead ducks, just meet me behind the town hall in an hour. I don't want you having too much fun without me." She flashed him a fanged smile, then exited the house without another word. He was fond of her and her demonic nature, but he was truly baffled by the level of concern he felt for her tonight. Shaking it off, he too exited the house, hoping a walk and a quick kill would clear his head. 

Spike stalked by house after house, taking in the sights and sounds of a town, full of life yet blanketed by fear. He smiled to himself, satisfied in the knowledge that he was this town's boogeyman, and nothing could stop his path of evil. He sensed something behind him. Something full of magical energy. A voice rang out in his head yet no words were spoken... 

"William" 

Spike spun around, finding himself faced down by two old men, and a young woman, all clad in heavy robes. His initial start gave way to his intimidating nature. "Last bloke who called me that is face down in a shallow grave. Or at least he would be, if he wasn't in 10 pieces." 

"William the Bloody...at last we meet." 

"Pleasure's all yours, old coot. Now bugger off before I cheat on my diet and make you and your chums into a three course dinner." He resisted sliding into his vampire face, what with the many witnesses around. He wasn't in a mass slaughtering mood, but a few kills wouldn't hurt. 

The woman spoke up. "We are but travellers, William. Passing through this town, we happened on a sad tale. It seems a young bride-to-be lost her betrothed last night. A beheading no less. Would you know any of this which I speak of?" 

"Look sweetie, inquisitions went out with the Spaniards. Don't ask me about my dealings in this town, or any town, unless you want a first-hand example of what I do." He grew angrier by the minute, and he felt a strange power eminating from the trio in front of him. 

"You caused her great suffering. You caused many incredible suffering." said the other old man. 

"And yet," continued the woman, "you possess traces of humanity. You know love." 

This infuriated Spike, and he began to approach the three menacingly. "What do you know about me?" he spat. "I'm Spike. I own this town. And you're trespassing." 

Undaunted, the third man spoke up. "Angelus..was your sire. No?" 

Spike froze. "You boys have done your reading. Maybe you could tell me what happened to..." 

"Enough!" shouted the first man, raising his hand while the other two muttered an incantation. Spike was held fast by some magical force. He recognized a few of the words from the incantation. 

"Gypsies!" screamed Spike through gritted teeth. "What the hell are you doing to me? I'll kill you all!" 

""Share the same fate as your sire, murderer," said the girl in a determined voice. The chanting got louder, and there was a flash of light. "From this day until death...your mortal soul is restored!" Spike screamed in horror right before he blacked out. 

He came to groggily, about ten minutes later. There was commotion all around him, but he heard or saw none of it. Sitting up but remaining on the ground, he slowly took in his surroundings. Everything felt different. He felt whole inside, a feeling he hadn't felt since he was turned, even when he was with Drucilla. Suddenly, his vampiric senses screamed inside him, and terrified, he realized one thing. Drucilla was in serious trouble. Only minutes ago, he would be on the next barge out of the country, but an unknown force drove him to her aid. A force his demonic heart squelched with ease, until now. He felt love. He had to rescue her. 

His soul demanded it. 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

She had no idea what she was doing. She walked, almost in a trance, through the brisk Sunnydale night. Her destination was Giles' house. He looked down quickly at her pocket watch. 11 o'clock. Giles would no doubt be asleep, and she had a key made a few weeks ago for emergencies. Why was she going? Why did she want to see...him? It was her conscience. It worried about what effect her spell had on him. Buffy hadn't fully recovered, so she was sure he hadn't either. It was the decent thing to do, checking on him like this. She must have said that to herself over and over until she finally approached the front door of the house. Letting herself in, she slowly crept up the stairs, and snuck right up to the guest room door. Closed, of course. She knocked slightly, not wanting to wake Giles. 

"Go away" said a gruff voice on the other side of the door. Willow gathered up all her courage, and entered the room anyway. 

"Oh for the love of...what do you want?" Spike growled, honestly wondering what it was the red-headed witch was doing here. "No more hocus-pocus on me girl. Next thing you'll have me makin out with that wimp Xander." 

Fighting off an angry response to Spike's quips, Willow stood, stiff as a board, in front of the doorway, shutting it behind her. Her silence drove Spike mad with curiosity and annoyance. 

"Well? Spit it out luv, some of us have to get our beauty rest." he added sarcastically. 

"A..are you, um are you ok? After the whole spell thing I mean." 

"Oh, just peachy. I'll take tongue wrestling with the Slayer over an actual fight any day." He rolled his eyes and turned on his side, away from her. "If you've come here looking to ease some of that guilt, you're in the wrong bedroom. Why not go pester Giles for making him into a geeky, tone deaf Ray Charles for a night?" 

You friggin jerk, she thought to herself. Swallowing her rage, she grew more confident. "I was just worried. That spell did a number on everyone. Manipulated feelings..." 

Spike interrupted "News flash pet, I'm a big bad vamp. I don't have feeling to manipulate, so don't flatter yourself." Deep inside he knew he was lying, but he could never let on. Not to anyone. 

"Well you certainly faked it well," Willow quipped at him. "You really had the whole bridegroom thing down pat in a few short hours. Ear nibbling, the whole deal." Her impudence brought a smile to his face for a split-second, which he lost before turning back towards her. 

"I don't know what your cockneyed spell had control of, but it was enough to have me in liplock with my mortal enemy. You should be proud of yourself," he said with a frown. Willow didn't know whether to take that compliment to heart. She just stood there, staring at him. Right into his eyes. "To answer your question Red, I'm back to normal, aside from this pesky vamp-castration thing." he relented, hoping that it would be enough to send her on her way. 

She stuttered again, not expecting anything civil to come out of his mouth at all. "W-well, I'm glad." She searched for something else to say, anything, but all that came out was "it won't happen a-again." 

Spike chuckled, only not in his usual degrading tone. "I should hope not, pet. I'd hate for you to drag yourself out every night to eek out an apology to all your pals." You're not her pal, twit, he thought to himself. Willow nodded, and turned to leave, but as she touched the doorknob, another wave of courage washed over her. She turned back to Spike. 

"I um...I never thanked you." she almost whispered, but loudly enough so he could hear. 

Now Spike was genuinely intrigued. "Thank me? What for, for not braving the searing pain in my frontal lobes and sucking you dry? Oh you're quite welcome," he chided her. 

"No...th-the conversation we had." She felt the words flowing easier now. "You might have thought I was patronizing you, and maybe you were patronizing me, but for what it's worth..." she trailed off. Oh bloody Hell, he thought to himself. She took your little "I'd bite you in a heartbeat" speech as some sort of grand compliment. No wonder she was over here, trying to strike up conversation. He should have made one more snide remark...just one more, enough to drive her from the room for good. But his instinct betrayed him, and soon he too started speaking despite his mind screaming otherwise. 

"I wasn't tryin for a Hallmark moment Red, that's not my style," he said, almost trying to convince himself, "but I meant what I said. You're a hot little number when you wanna be. Just drop the whole morality thing and you'd almost be a catch..." he almost froze as he spoke those last words. What the hell was he babbling about? The demonic influence inside him almost laughed at him mockingly. 

Willow was equally stunned. Spike was showing a side she thought could never exist in a demon...well, most demons anyway. The flood of emotions that had controlled her since Oz left took over again, and her only response was to begin bawling like a baby. Spike sat there, watching the warm tears cascading down her smooth skin, before she smeared them away with her hands. "Oz..." she choked out between sobs. Spike could only watch, the energy she gave off from her sorrow almost burning through his very being. He thought back to that night he returned to Sunnydale, fresh off Dru leaving him. Though drunk beyond belief, he remembered bits and pieces of his actions that night. He remembered a frightened Willow and a bruised Xander. He remembered Willow comforting him...in total and absolute terror...comforting him. Something inside him wanted to break those chains and put an arm around her. If only to return her terse "there there" with one of his own. Now it was his turn to stutter. 

"I-is there anything you need to...talk about?" he couldnt believe his ears. William the Bloody was offering love advice to a hurt teenager. Her sobs quieted, as she began to tell him the tale of Oz and how his werewolf side caused him to leave her, perhaps forever. All the while she sat across the room, doing most of the talking, while Spike sat and listened. Not with his usual laconic half-attention, but instead listening to every word. He couldn't believe how this scared little girl could feel for anyone so deeply the way she felt for Oz. She was ahead of her years in matters of the heart, that's for sure. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Willow glanced at her watch. 12:15. She'd been talking for over an hour, spilling her guts like it was Buffy sitting on the bed. As she came back to reality, she realized who she was talking too. She stood up slowly, almost stunned that she had opened up so freely to of all people, Spike. 

"I have to go." 

"Yes, you really should. No sense risking an explanation to Giles as to why we're even in the same room," answered Spike, as he laid back in the bed, preparing to sleep as well. 

Willow again turned to leave the room. She looked over her shoulder at Spike, but she didn't see the same vampire she tried to stumble through an apology to only an hour ago. He had no reason to sit there and listen to me all night, she thought. Could it be, someone like Spike....actually cared? Her head screamed a million possibilities...he was humoring you Wil...it was a trick...the implant's screwing with his head. She shut them all out. Spike knew love, and he knew of love lost. Somehow, they had connected. 

"Thanks again," she said softly. Spike just nodded as she left the room. He waited until she was well out of earshot, before whispering to himself, "anytime, pet..." 

COMING SOON - Part Two (feedback/reviews encouraged, it'll get Part 2 out faster) 


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